


Master and Commander

by Nary



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Authority Challenge, Banter, Canon Disabled Character, Insolence, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Rivalry, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-07
Updated: 2011-05-07
Packaged: 2017-10-19 02:11:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/pseuds/Nary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime couldn't fault Loras for his attention to duty, but he could call him out for other reasons. It pleased him to bring the arrogant boy down a peg when he had the chance. Too many people preferred to kiss his arse - it would do him good to have someone who refused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Master and Commander

"Your tunic's dirty," Jaime told Loras when he found him in the stables after training one morning.

"I've been grooming my mount," the Knight of Flowers replied, not even bothering to glance over in his direction.

Jaime couldn't fault him for his attention to duty, but he could call him out for other reasons. It pleased him to bring the arrogant boy down a peg when he had the chance. Too many people preferred to kiss his arse - it would do him good to have someone who refused. "Look at me when I speak to you, Tyrell."

The lad turned his head then, but in as insolent a way as possible for such a simple gesture. "Better, ser?"

"I know how terribly inconvenient it is to wear white - it shows every stain - but try to keep the horseshit off your cloak, at least. Remember you're upholding the honour of the king." Loras smirked, which infuriated Jaime more than it should have. "Take your tunic off, ser," he snapped.

"Off?"

"Off."

"I'll have it cleaned..." Loras began, only to be interrupted.

"No, you'll have it off, this instant."

"I won't --"

"Won't?" Jaime echoed. "Remember who you're speaking to - your Lord Commander. In case that title's too difficult to parse, it means I'm your lord and you follow my fucking commands. _Ser._ "

Loras's eyes were mutinous, but he stripped off the soiled tunic. His body was still slender, and almost as hairless as a maiden's, but well-muscled and gleaming with sweat. "Have you seen all you wanted?" he asked cheekily. "Or shall I take off the rest as well?"

Jaime felt his face flush, and hoped his beard would hide the worst of the redness. "I could have you shoveling shit for a month," he snarled.

"Or you could have me on my back, here, now. Teach me my lesson. You'd enjoy it," Loras said with a sly smile.

For a moment Jaime couldn't decide whether he'd rather cuff the boy across the head, or storm off, or both. Before he could make up his mind, Loras was hooking a finger into his belt, drawing him closer. "Master me, my lord," he said huskily, tipping that pretty face up toward Jaime's, knowing full well how irresistible he was. And Jaime was weak, in the end.

It had been years since Jaime'd last had a tumble in a hayloft. The prickling of the straw on bare skin reminded him of how, when he and Cersei were young, they'd hide above the stables together, playing their childish games. Loras's cloak was spread out beneath them. "It's already dirty," the young knight said, "it can't get any worse." Jaime had to laugh at that - white cloaks, his own included, had been ruined before this with mud and blood, singed by fire and tarnished with too many disgraces to list. A little straw wasn't going to hurt this one.

Loras was already hard, squirming impatiently while Jaime readied himself. "Hurry," he gasped.

"I'm hurrying," Jaime snapped back at him, jerking himself harder. He still wasn't used to using his off-hand. "We're not all eighteen here." Once he was fully erect, he pressed his cock against Loras's belly, skin sliding against delicate skin. "Suck me," he ordered, and savoured the sight of the impudent young knight hurrying into a crouch to take him in his mouth.

It obviously wasn't the first time Loras had done this, for his tongue was skilled at the task, not teasing lightly but sucking greedily, with full, quick strokes that enveloped him to the very base. Jaime let his head hang back, eyes closed, while Loras did all the work. That way, he could imagine it was anyone servicing him, anyone at all. Strange, then, that he realized he was quite content for it to be Loras in his mind's eye as well as in the flesh. Damn him, but the boy was just so _pretty._

Jaime was beginning to feel a more urgent warmth building in him when Loras stopped and settled back on his haunches. "Why are you stopping?" he asked crossly, propping himself up on his elbows.

"Because," said Loras with a lazy shrug that tossed his hair rather fetchingly, "I don't want you to finish too soon. I wouldn't want you to be embarrassed, after all."

"Fuck you."

"Yes, well, I'd rather like it if you were actually _able_ to... hence the reason I stopped before you lost control." Loras lay down beside him, trailing one finger through the golden hair on Jaime's chest. "You do want to, don't you? To fuck me?"

Jaime's mouth moved, but no words seemed to come out at first. Finally, he managed a tiny "yes".

"I thought as much. Well, if you want to, all you need to do is ...lick my arse."

"What?!"

"You heard me. Use your tongue to make me all sloppy wet for you, and then you can do whatever you wish. It doesn't take much to get me ready," he said, even as he gave Jaime's nipple a sudden, sharp twist that made the older man draw a harsh breath. "Besides, you always complain about how too many people kiss my arse, and I think the irony would be delicious."

Jaime struggled mightily with himself. He could refuse and walk away (albeit painfully, at this point). Or he could give in, do as he was asked, and let the lad lord it over him for the rest of his life. Finally it dawned on him that there was a third solution. He took his prick in his hand and began to stroke it steadily.

"What are you doing?" demanded Loras, frowning.

"Finishing up. Don't worry," Jaime added, "I'll do you next, if you're a _very_ good boy." It was more satisfying than he would have ever imagined to see the look on Loras's face when he spunked against the lad's belly. Drawing his fingers through the slippery mess, he said, "Tsk, too bad."

"What is?" Loras pouted.

"If we'd thought of it, we could have used this to slick that tight little hole of yours. Or maybe not so very tight, eh? Too late now, of course. You'll have to settle for what you can get."

Jaime slid his hand down until he was gripping Loras's cock about the base, then jerked him roughly enough that the young man cried out, though not, he thought, purely in pain. "Shut up," Jaime muttered, suddenly worried that someone might overhear. He worked faster, and in a few short moments, Loras's hips were jerking frantically, his hands clutching at the white cloak beneath him as he came.

Jaime stood first, dusting himself off and tugging his tunic back over his head, while Loras lay still for a time, luxuriating in his release, before he too rose and began to dress. Jaime managed to get his breeches back on before he realized the problem - he'd forgotten, in the heat of the moment, that he couldn't get them tied with only one hand. "Uh... Loras, could you...?"

Loras glanced over at him. "No, my lord, I don't think so," he said with a grin, and left Jaime to walk back to White Sword Tower with his laces held awkwardly in his fist.


End file.
